Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Denmark and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Intrusion to the rap kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks. All the underground hits.
All Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every David McCallum record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Public Image Ltd. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eyeless In Gaza,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Hot Snakes,
Throbbing Gristle,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Faraquet,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Knickerbockers,
David Bowie,
Moby Grape,
Delta 5,
The Cure,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Derrick May,
New Age Steppers,
Sun Ra,
Alphaville,
Country Teasers,
Zero Boys,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Bauhaus,
Maleditus Sound,
Funkadelic,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Thee Headcoats,
Royal Trux,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Last Poets,
The Mummies,
The United States of America,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Darondo,
Babytalk,
Flamin' Groovies,
DNA,
Bang On A Can,
Sandy B,
Ultravox,
Curtis Mayfield,
Yellowson,
The Wake,
Colin Newman,
Qualms,
B.T. Express,
Byron Stingily,
Dead Boys,
The Music Machine,
Subhumans,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Fat Boys,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Loose Ends,
Organ,
Masters at Work,
Glambeats Corp.,
The J.B.'s,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Crime,
The Angels of Light,
Quando Quango, Quando Quango, Quando Quango, Quando Quango.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.